Emerico walked with slow and considered steps, staying under the cover of roofs and awnings. His task was quite similar to what he did earlier this day: watching and listening to the environment for anything out of the order. Only this time, it was [i]actual[/i] discovery and not trying to find a needle in a haystack of people and loud noises. This was quite to the apprentice's liking and he tried to be as dutiful as possible, investigating every suspicious shadow and unnatural sound. As if chasing a pesky rat in the cellar, he thought—an apt comparison to the thief-hunting he was truly doing.

The unmistakable and rather out of place sound of an owl was the next thing to catch Emerico's attention. He realised it could not come from an actual animal, but instead from either one of the thieves or one of the two former Assassins as a covert signal. He went closer—or would have gone closer, had he not suddenly spotted foreign forms in the dark as he almost turned a corner. He could only tell from the short glimpse he got was that there was more than one person and that they were approaching in his—and the church's—direction.
He stuck to the other side and waited in total silence, hoping that the mysterious figures would keep moving towards the Basilica and leave him behind. He held back his breath as the otherwise quiet footsteps grew increasingly louder...

He was right, they walked past him without any notice and he could finally catch a better look at who he was up against. Three men, dressed in simple cloth and with daggers not on their waists, but in their hands. These people were not heading to a secret meeting—but an execution. It was starting to grow apparent that his mentor was, surprisingly, in the wrong in this case and tonight's event was just bait to lure the Templars out. Emerico knew he needed to get to him before those three did.

However, before he could have even figured out how he was going to get ahead of them, he heard other sounds, this time from almost directly above him. He pulled out his blade instinctively and was ready to fend off any opponent by the time the maker of the noises appeared ahead of him with a nimble jump off a nearby roof. It was no opponent however—but Alessandro, whose arrival Emerico noted with a mix of surprise and discontent.
“What is it?” he asked quietly, sheathing his sword.
“Your [i]amico[/i] is about to be ambushed,” the young man revealed almost casually.
“Tell me something I don't know...”
“Come with me.”

[hr]
“I wonder when will the rest arrive...”
“Patience, brother. They should be here any second now.”
“Ah, [i]sì, sì.[/i] Then we can finally get things under way...”

Luciano was leaning to the closest pillar he felt safe behind as he listened to the gathering thieves in the courtyard talk. They seemed to never let go of their hushed tones, and the thought of missing something vital was beyond frustrating to the otherwise sharp-eared Templar. He was itching to inch ever so slightly closer...but could never quite make up his mind in fears of being spotted. He could probably take on three, perhaps even four thieves at any given time, but the here present bunch could almost surely overwhelm him before he could escape. And he did not want to escape just yet...

In his focus, he heard a small pebble bounce on the ground near him. While he gave it no importance, he still turned his attention momentarily to the side—and soon thanked himself for that. For he saw Elena, standing just a couple pillars away and beckoning him quietly. Her expression spoke of urgency and the Templar trusted his new ally enough to know she did not come here in vain. Just as carefully as they got into it, they moved away from the action now where they could talk briefly without being seen. The woman took the opportunity and immediately informed Luciano of the situation.
“What?!” he whispered, though the anger in his voice was still very distinct. “Are you...absolutely certain?”
She nodded.
[i]“Cazzo...”[/i] he hissed. “I promised that...that [i]pezzi di merda[/i] the payback would be horrible if he dared lie to me... So be it then. You leave with the others and prepare for tomorrow night. Find out what you can and...don't die. I believe in you, all three of you to not disappoint me.”
“What about you?” she asked, afraid of whatever crazy plan the impulsive man thought up in the heat of the moment.
“A true Templar never goes back on his word.”

Trusting Elena to take the rest of the team to safety, he pulled out both of his blades and stepped out into the open slowly, but fearlessly.
“You don't need to look, [i]ratti.[/i] This lion is not going anywhere.”
“Cocky, eh? Typical [i]Templare.[/i]” The leading thief spit on the ground in his spite. “You will die at the hands of those you have oppressed.”
“Right, right. May I ask who tipped you all off that I'd be here?”
Luciano stayed close to the pillar, using it to cover his back from any possible assault. He was constantly scouring the courtyard, keeping eyes on every present thief and looking for a particular someone. He had a sword pointed in each direction in the case any of them got too reckless.
“What's it to you? You were the fool to have come.”
“I should have thought you were too low to even answer a dead man's last request...”
The man just shrugged.
“Marciano will drink with us after you're dead. Now die, [i]feccia![/i]”
[i]“Grazie.”[/i]

Before the thieves could completely surround him, he bolted out of the courtyard at one of the openings. He had gotten what he came for—now he only had to escape, a feat which was much more difficult than it seemed, for his hunters knew Florence better than anyone else. The peaceful nighttime was no more as the empty streets now gave place to a frantic chase. Luciano could hear his pursuers both behind him on the ground and above him on the roofs, but he did not take any time to look back. What he lacked in speed and agility he made up for with smart pathing, leaving obstacles in the path for his pursuers and taking the side streets whenever possible.

After several minutes of intense running like that, the Templar felt like his legs were about to give out. However, he was forced to stop before that happened by something else: the end of the road. None other than the Arno river came into his sight now, spreading wide and separating the districts of Florence. The thieves were still relentlessly on his trail and quickly caught up to him now that he had nowhere to go. The bridge was far away, though he could see it from the riverbank. This time, he was truly cornered.
“This ends now!” shouted one of the earliest arriving pursuers, hurling a throwing knife towards the Templar. It hit him right in the shoulder and staggered him backwards enough that he bucked over the small wall that separated the road and the river and fell into the Arno.

“Is this it, really?”
“Is the [i]Templare[/i] dead?”
These and similar questions were hushed between the thieves as they leaned over to watch the silent river. The man they pursued for so long was nowhere to be seen.
“Even if he knows how to swim...he will not make it back up with a knife in him. Well done, brother.” The leader pat the shooter on the back. “One oppressor less... Corradin will be delighted.”